


In the Deep

by skyblue_reverie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Starfleet Academy, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-15
Updated: 2009-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyblue_reverie/pseuds/skyblue_reverie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Academy days: Jim walks in on something he shouldn't have; WOE and ANGST ensue, followed by shamelessly self-indulgent hurt/comfort featuring Bones' Magic Cock of Healing (MCoH™).</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Deep

**Title:** In the Deep  
 **Author:** [](http://skyblue-reverie.livejournal.com/profile)[**skyblue_reverie**](http://skyblue-reverie.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom & Pairing:** Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Kirk/McCoy (with a plot-devicey side of McCoy/random guy)  
 **Rating:** NC-17, hoo boy.  
 **Spoilers:** Not really, unless Tarsus IV is a spoiler  
 **Warnings:** Discussion of past child sexual abuse, descriptions of genocide  
 **Word Count:** Around 14,000  
 **Summary:** Academy days: Jim walks in on something he shouldn't have; WOE and ANGST ensue, followed by shamelessly self-indulgent hurt/comfort featuring Bones' Magic Cock of Healing (MCoH™).  
 **A/N (a.k.a. tl;dr):** For purposes of this fic, I'm assuming that homophobia is alive and well in the future, at least in some form and among some people. (I'd be happy to discuss why if you're curious.) For some of the descriptions of the Tarsus genocide (and for so much more) I am deeply indebted to my grandmother, a holocaust survivor. May we never forget. Endless love  & thanks to the lovely [](http://ennui-blue-lite.livejournal.com/profile)[**ennui_blue_lite**](http://ennui-blue-lite.livejournal.com/) for hand-holding, brainstorming, and always-insightful thoughts and comments. Title is from the Bird York song of the same name. Okay, with the serious stuff out of the way: OMG guys, IDEK how this happened. Jim and Bones just wouldn't shut up in my head. Talk talk talk they just kept going. So I'm sorry that this is so dialogue-heavy, but blame them not me. And the smut! It just goes on and on and on and on and on... and for that, I also blame the boys. Also, in case the reference to Bones' MCoH above didn't make it clear, this is _not_ an attempt to deal realistically with the aftermath of child sexual abuse. It is hurt/comfort written totally to indulge my own kinks (well, and ennui's too) and I hope some of yours as well.  
 **Disclaimer:** Do I really need to say it? Not mine, no infringement intended, no money made.

Jim didn't even pause before he keyed in Bones' dorm room entry code, and in retrospect maybe that was his first mistake.

His second was no doubt continuing into Bones' room despite what should have been the obvious warning signs: dimmed lighting, rhythmic slapping, obscene moaning.

But, in his defense, it'd probably been like... two hundred years since Bones got laid, so excuse him if it wasn't the first thing he'd thought of upon entering Bones' room. Not that Bones couldn't've gotten laid if he'd wanted to; the man was seriously hot. He hadn't actually checked Bones out, of course, just that Jim always scoped out the competition.

Anyway, he definitely was not expecting the sight that met his eyes. Bones was kneeling on his bed, back to the door, naked, flushed, sweating, as he drove into his partner, ruthlessly, again and again. And those obscene moans? They were coming from said partner. Who was definitely, positively, male.

So, mistake number three. Not turning and leaving as soon as he'd realized what he'd just walked in on. This wasn't his room, and technically maybe he wasn't supposed to know Bones' entry code, and Bones definitely wasn't expecting company... well, not Jim's company, anyway. But Jim was frozen in place. Oh god, that was _Bones fucking_. Another _guy. Bones was fucking a guy._

Jim was an enlightened sentient being, and he had nothing against homosexuality. Hell, some of his favorite porn was lesbian porn and surely that counted for something, right? And some of his best friends were gay! Well, okay, he really only had _one_ friend, and _Bones_ wasn't... but he now had indisputable evidence that said friend was actually... not completely straight. Jim only barely suppressed a hysterical giggle.

He couldn't have made himself move, even if the room had been on fire. Which you know, it sort of was, in a manner of speaking. He felt a curl of shame and self-loathing in his gut as he watched his best friend, totally oblivious to Jim's presence, enthusiastically and repeatedly shoving his dick into the pale and quite muscular ass presented for him. Jim most certainly did not feel jealousy. Or possessiveness. Why on earth would he feel like that toward Bones? They were friends, that's all. Jim didn't swing that way. Never had. He refused to let himself think about the times on Tarsus that he'd... that was just to survive. It didn't mean anything. Wasn't his fault, that's what the counselor he'd been forced to see had told him, while he sat, mutinously silent, through their required sessions. Could even see that rationally, maybe she was right, even if he couldn't actually _believe_ it.

And so what if Bones did swing that way? Okay, yeah, it was kind of a shock. But he could roll with it, he could handle it. Just because his best friend was into guys didn't make him a predator, didn't make him some kind of sicko. Of course it didn't. Jim's palms were clammy and his forehead had broken into a cold sweat. _Breathe,_ he reminded himself. Just breathe. It's just sex. Just Bones. Bones would never hurt anyone.

Then it changed. Bones picked up speed, ass muscles clenching tight as he thrust harder, still silent, and the guy under him stopped moaning. And oh god, now the guy was gasping, and keening, and was that pleasure or pain? The noises - so familiar, too familiar - filled the room along with the smell of sex and now Jim could hear Bones' breathing too, rasping and heavy. Jim was a talker during sex, always had been, because otherwise, in the silence, with the noises of two bodies, it was just too real. As it was now. Jim remembered. He didn't want to remember. Fourteen years old, face down in a bed, ass in the air and strong hands clenching his hips. Gritting his teeth, as quiet as he could make himself because he would not give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. The sound of harsh breathing behind him, like Bones' harsh breathing now. The sound of skin slapping on skin, the creaking of bedsprings. And the feelings. How it felt to have someone's dick pushing hard into him... no. NO. Not going there. _Oh shit,_ Jim thought, _I'm going to throw up now. Bones is going to be pissed._

When he came to, he was, in fact, lying in a puddle of his own vomit, and yeah, Bones looked livid. In fact, he seemed to already be mid-rant.

"-believable," Bones was saying, through gritted teeth. "Can't get any peace for even one goddamned night, you have to get drunk and break into my room and pass out on my floor. After throwing up everything you've ever eaten. Because god forbid Jim Kirk do anything halfway."

He noticed vaguely that Bones, kneeling by his shoulder, seemed to be tipping his face to the side, making sure he didn't asphyxiate on his own vomit. The strangely gentle fingers were at odds with the angry tone of voice, but Jim was used to that dissonance by now. What he wasn't used to was Bones being so... so naked. Oh shit, Bones hadn't had time to put any clothes on, and his cock, long and thick even now, when flaccid, dangled obscenely between his legs, still glistening with lube. Jim groaned and turned his head the other way. Just in time to see the flash of a hastily-dressed back heading out the door. It was just him and Bones now. And Bones' naked dick. And the smell of vomit and sex, and the memory of how Bones looked fucking... Suddenly, Jim needed to be out of there as well. Like, yesterday.

He hauled himself upright, ignoring the taste of sick still in his mouth, ignoring Bones' surprised and indignant curse.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered. God, he sounded like an idiot. And still, he couldn't think of anything else to say, couldn't make his brain or mouth form any other words. "Sorry," he said once more for good measure, and then he staggered out of the room, the echo of Bones' final "Goddammit, Jim!" following him like a shadow.

So yeah, here he was in the Academy library, two weeks and three days later, not that he was keeping track or anything, counting the mistakes that had led him and Bones to this place. This awkward, not-talking, not-hanging-out place that felt wronger than the wrongest wrong thing ever. For God's sake, he couldn't even look Bones in the eyes. Bones, his best friend! What the hell was wrong with him? He was such a fuck-up. Always had been. And now he'd just fucked up the best - the only real - friendship he'd ever had. He'd seen the _looks_ Bones had been throwing him whenever they were in the same place at the same time - lecture halls, the cafeteria, the quad. First, the looks were irritated. After a few days, they turned puzzled. Then, after a week had passed, the looks Bones was giving him were purely pissed off with, Jim was pretty sure, a large measure of hurt hidden in there as well. It was only a matter of time before Bones tracked him down and confronted him, because after all Jim had kind of dropped out of contact, and maybe he'd been ignoring Bones' comms, and Bones wasn't the type to back away from an unpleasant emotional scene, wasn't a coward like Jim was.

And speak of the devil, there was Bones now, heading straight for him with a determined look on his face that said they were going to have this out here and now, and there was nowhere to go, because Jim had chosen a study desk in the back corner of the least-used room in the library. Bones sat down heavily opposite Jim, slinging his messenger bag into the chair next to him. He looked perfectly proper in his red cadet uniform, but Jim couldn't stop seeing him naked, ruddy, sweat-sheened, cock dangling only a few short feet from Jim's face... he looked away. He could _not_ do this.

"What the hell, Jim?" Bones didn't sound pissed off like Jim expected. Instead he sounded... resigned, and bitter, and yeah, definitely hurt.

"Oh, hey, Bones." Jim tried for nonchalant, heard it fall flat, and winced.

"Oh, so it's gonna be like that, is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Well, _that_ was a total lie, but Jim really couldn't think of anything better to say.

"Goddammit. I thought we were _friends,_ Jim. Why won't you even talk to me? Have you decided I'm not worthy of the great Jim Kirk's friendship after all?" It was a low blow. Bones knew full well that he wasn't like that, didn't think he was special because of his name or history. Maybe that was why Jim replied the way he did.

"Maybe I did, McCoy. I thought we were friends, too. But then, I didn't realize at the time that you were such a perverted _freak._ "

Bones flinched back as if he'd been hit. For one moment, all the pain, shock, and hurt showed on his face, and Jim wished harder than he'd ever wished for anything that he could take it back. Then the moment was over and Bones had retreated into tight, furious anger.

"Didn't take you for a bigot, Kirk. Guess we both misjudged each other. Be seeing you." With that, he got up, grabbed the strap of his bag so hard his knuckles turned white, and left without a backward glance.

Well, _shit._

The weeks that followed were... somewhat unpleasant, to say the least, if Jim were inclined to dwell on it, which he wasn't. He threw himself even harder into the social whirl of the Academy, went out drinking at trendy bars that he knew Bones would hate, and had sex with lots of women. Lots. While not thinking about Bones at all.

If he happened to see Bones around the Academy, he pointedly did not avoid him. Why would he want to avoid someone who meant less than nothing to him? When their eyes met, he kept an insouciant grin plastered on his face. Bones' face was mostly impassive, even if that muscle under his left eye was twitching, which Jim knew meant that Bones felt miserable, murderous, or both. And if Jim felt a slightly petty, vindictive satisfaction at that, well, he'd never admit it.

Things might have continued indefinitely in that vein if not for the shuttle test. All the cadets had to know how to pilot a shuttle manually and take it through a simulated emergency landing. Jim had passed the first month, but Bones had been putting it off, practically hyperventilating every time the subject was even brought up. Jim, of course, had pushed him into finally scheduling it, and had agreed to be - well, more like insisted on being, really - Bones' copilot for the test, but with everything that had happened it had slipped his mind. Until he was standing in the quad, flirting with a couple of girls from his astronavigation class. A third girl approached, eyes alight with malicious glee.

"Have you guys heard? Some cadet, an old guy, is about to wash out. He showed up totally drunk for his shuttle test!" She was practically bouncing.

"What? Who?" said girl #1 - Kaylee? Kylie? Something like that, anyway. Jim felt a burst of panic in his stomach as he waited for the answer.

"I dunno his name, I think he's a doctor. Didn't he used to be, like a friend of yours, or something?" chirped the newcomer in Jim's direction. She didn't give him time to answer before she was speaking again. "He's locked himself into the simulator and he won't come out and the instructor said he's got half an hour to sober up, find a copilot, and take the test or she's going to personally bounce him out on his ass. They're taking bets over at the simulation center."

Jim was gone before she even finished her sentence. Half an hour, shit. And probably less than that by now. His mind was racing. First stop, the infirmary. He knew a sweet little nurse there, and she owed him one.

Thirteen minutes later, an anti-intoxication hypo gripped in his hand, Jim burst into the simulation center's observation room, taking in the knots of whispering students clustered around like rubberneckers at an accident scene. Which, maybe, wasn't too far off.

"Okay, show's over, everyone clear out!" He made sure his voice was calm, confident. Half the secret to getting people to do what you wanted, he'd discovered, was acting like you knew what you were doing and had the authority to back it up. It seemed to work here, as, grumbling in discontent, the other cadets picked up their things and shuffled out, still talking under their voices and shooting glances at Jim, now, as well as the darkened display window.

As the room cleared, he found himself face to face with Instructor Ishida, her arms folded, staring at him with dislike. It _would_ have to be _her._ Shit. She'd had it in for Bones since the first week when he'd bitched her out for breaking a cadet's ankle during combat class, and she hated Jim by association.

"Kirk. I should've known. You're McCoy's copilot, I take it?" she asked, voice dripping with disdain.

"Yep; sorry I'm late!" Kirk put on his most charming grin, figuring it couldn't hurt. It apparently couldn't help, either. Her disapproving expression didn't change.

"Well, then, go ahead. You've got - " she glanced at her watch " - seven minutes to get ready and get launched."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, in his most respectful tone. Which wasn't, maybe, very respectful. But at least he tried. "Umm, could we, ah, have a moment alone?" he asked, motioning between himself and the observation window, still darkened.

She rolled her eyes and sneered. "Fine. I'll be back in seven minutes." She turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Jim sat at the observation console and gingerly pressed the audio transmit button. "Hey Bones, what's up?" he said, going for cool and casual.

"Whozat? Jim? Come to watch me crash and burn, huh?" Bones snorted at his own pun.

Fuck. He sounded really, really drunk.

"Nope, here to be your copilot. Lemme in."

"Oh, my _copilot,_ " Bones slurred, managing to make it sound like a curse. "Jim, you hate me, or had you forgotten? I'm a perterved - pert - pervet - fuckin' _freak,_ right?"

Jim winced. Trust Bones' steel-trap memory to work perfectly, even when he was too plastered to get out a coherent sentence. Clearly Bones wasn't going to do this the easy way. He flexed his fingers and got to work on the entryway controls. Meanwhile, he kept talking. Best to keep Bones distracted.

"Ahh, about that. I might perhaps have been a tad bit harsh. But we can discuss that afterwards. Hey, did you hear that Buckley won the Greenleaf Prize for her work on surgical techniques in Andorians?" The Greenleaf Prize was the Academy's most prestigious award for a medical-track cadet, and Jim happened to know that Bones thought Andrea Buckley was the biggest idiot who had ever been admitted to Starfleet.

The diversion worked like a charm. "Yeah, I heard," growled Bones. "And did _you_ know that she only won that prize because she's the daughter of the CEO of MedTech, and they're one of Starfleet's biggest civilian contractors? Her paper was complete bullshit and it's going to set back the field of surgery at least three years." He might have slurred his words a bit, but the righteous rage seemed to be burning through his drunken haze, and as he ranted on about Buckley and her undeserved award, Jim tuned out and focused on hacking the door controls. Bones had activated the emergency quarantine mechanism, actually a relatively simple and elegant way of holing up in the shuttle simulator. But Jim could sweet-talk a computer just as easily as he could a lovely lady, so a moment later, just as Bones was really winding himself up for a marathon diatribe, the simulator doors swooshed open and Jim ducked inside before Bones could react.

Bones had half-swiveled toward the doorway, but drunk as he was, his reflexes were no match for Jim's. Jim was next to him and pressing the hypo into Bones' neck before Bones could even rise out of his chair.

"What the hell?" Bones bellowed. "It wasn't enough to come watch my humiliation, now you have to bust in here so you can physically attack me, you son of a..."

Jim watched, slightly amused, as the Alacon kicked in and quickly neutralized the alcohol in Bones' bloodstream. This seemed to take the wind out of his sails. He blinked, took a moment to process where he was, who he was with, and the circumstances of their encounter. Then he groaned and buried his face in his hands. "God, just shoot me now."

"Hey, you can call me Jim, and why would I want to shoot you? We've got a shuttle sim to conquer! Come on, let's get this party started!" Jim kept his tone purposely light, friendly, non-threatening.

"I can't do this, Jim. You know I can't. Ishida knows I can't. Hell, the whole Academy knows I can't. Why can't you just let me flame out in peace? Then I can, I dunno, go drink myself to death under a bridge somewhere."

Damn, this was bad. Taking in Bones' several-days-past-scruffy beard, greasy unwashed hair, rumpled uniform, and the miasma of whiskey rolling off him in waves, Jim knew that Bones was in as low a place as he'd ever been, worse even than when he'd joined Starfleet out of desperation and despair, fresh off a brutal divorce. And he knew that this was his fault. He, Jim Kirk, had done what not even the-ex-may-she-burn-in-Hell (as Jim always thought of her) had managed. He had broken Leonard McCoy. God, he was an idiot. And an asshole. He didn't deserve Bones' friendship, didn't deserve the space that he wasted by just existing. But he shoved those non-productive thoughts aside for the moment. This wasn't helping. He had one chance, he knew, one shot to pull Bones back from the brink. And he knew how he was going to do it. It was mean, really low, and maybe Bones would never forgive him for it. But he knew Bones inside and out, knew his soft spots and weak points and knew exactly how to manipulate him. So he took a deep breath and sat in the copilot's chair next to Bones, swiveling to face him and leaning in close.

"You can't do that, Bones. You can't flame out," he said softly, gently, laying a hand on Bones' knee. "You can't, 'cause I... I need you. I need you here, with me. I can't do this without you. I fucked up bad, Bones, I know I did. But I can't go through the Academy" - _through life,_ he thought, and _holy shit,_ just like that, the world turned upside-down and _everything_ changed as suddenly he knew it for the truth - "without you by my side."

Bones didn't reply, just looked at him. Jim held his breath, suddenly far more invested in the outcome of Bones' decision than he'd ever imagined he could be. He desperately willed his sincerity to shine through his eyes. After an endless moment, Bones gave a brief, reluctant nod. "Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with. And then you and I are going to have a talk."

Jim went practically numb with relief. "Yeah, okay, a talk," he agreed, although he knew that the upcoming conversation would be as painful as the weeks of silence had been. Still, best not to think about that now. "Shit, it's been almost seven minutes. We need to get booted up _now._ "

He suited word to deed, swiveling back around to face the sim controls even as he was talking. Bones buckled his harness and Jim hit the simulation start button just as Ishida's voice rang out over the shuttle's comm system and the observation window went transparent.

"Test beginning now, cadets."

After all that, the shuttle test itself was strangely anti-climactic. He and Bones went through the sim smoothly, working together with effortless ease, just as they'd practiced so many times (at Jim's insistence). Bones kept shooting him these slightly incredulous looks, though, like he couldn't quite believe Jim was actually helping him, like he expected him to yell "Psych!" and start laughing at him at any moment. It sucked, and it sucked even worse to know that Jim deserved every suspicious, mistrustful glance, but at least it kept Bones distracted and too mentally preoccupied to have a panic attack.

When it was over, and they had successfully touched down, Bones sat back in his seat and looked like he couldn't quite believe he'd done it. Truth be told, he looked pretty bewildered in general, and Jim eased him up out of his chair with a hand under his elbow and, as unobtrusively as possible, guided him out of the sim-shuttle.

Back in the observation room, Ishida was looking sour, but there was nothing she could do - Bones had flown beautifully.

"I'm putting two demerits on your record, one for slovenly appearance, and one for conduct unbecoming in appearing for your test inebriated, McCoy. You're a disgrace," she shot at him spitefully. "Dismissed." She waited for the expected explosion, and Bones stiffened, ready to take the bait, but Jim kept them moving through the observation room and out the door before he could respond.

Their momentum carried them out into the bright sunlight and partway down the path to the medical dorm before Bones regained the wherewithal to pull his arm free of Jim's hand and stop walking. He glared.

"All right, Jim. Now we talk. What the goddamn _hell_ has been going on?"

Jim darted a look around. There was no one currently within earshot, but this wasn't the place to have a private conversation. "Not here, Bones," he said quietly but forcefully. "I promise, we'll talk, and I'll explain, but not here."

"Fine," Bones said resignedly. "And since I'm the only one of us with a private room, I guess it's my place." He stomped off.

Jim followed Bones to his dorm room, and as they entered, Jim couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been here. God, he'd made such an ass of himself. He only hoped it wasn't too late to fix the mess he'd made.

Bones waved him toward the room's lone armchair, where an open bottle and an assortment of empty, if dubiously clean, glasses were already sitting on a side table. As Jim settled in and poured himself a drink, Bones grabbed a clean uniform from a drawer, stepped into the head, and after a few seconds, Jim heard the sound of the shower starting up. Good. It would give him a few minutes to organize his thoughts.

Only problem was, Jim had gotten no further in organizing his thoughts than _Damn, Bones' room looks like a tornado hit it,_ before Bones was stepping out of the restroom, freshly-scrubbed, clean-shaven, and looking at him with unholy determination.

"All right, kid, here we are. Now talk," Bones said pointedly, sitting on the edge of his bed, across from Jim.

Fuck. Here we go. Jim braced himself to speak the truth that he'd hoped to never, ever reveal to anyone.

"I... was on Tarsus IV."

"You - _what?_ " Whatever Bones was expecting to hear, clearly that wasn't it. He could see Bones processing, could see the media images that came to mind whenever anyone mentioned the Tarsus genocide. Gaunt, hollow-eyed starvation victims, bellies swollen and elbows thicker than their upper arms. Stacks of bodies where, at the end, they had lain, rotting, because there was no fuel to run the incinerators and nobody had the strength left to dig graves. And as haunting as the images were, they didn't hold a candle to the reality. Nothing could. Nothing could ever capture the depth, the magnitude of the horror that had been Tarsus IV. Jim's mind shied away from the details, and he struggled to get his thoughts back on track.

"I was... fourteen at the time. I'd fucked up one too many times at home, driven my stepdad's prized Corvette off a cliff... well, that doesn't matter. Anyway, I was too wild to handle, so my mom sent me and -" he swallowed "- my brother Sam to Tarsus to stay with an aunt and uncle there."

Bones didn't move, didn't even blink. He could see that Bones wasn't sure where this was going, but wasn't about to interrupt. Surprise flared in his eyes when Jim mentioned his brother, another part of Jim's past that he didn't like to discuss. Most people didn't know there'd ever been an older Kirk boy.

"When the famine got bad, Kodos had the colonists rounded up. The kids separate from the adults. It was chaos. No one knew what was going on, what was going to happen. We hadn't had hardly anything to eat for days, couple weeks maybe, so we were... disoriented, I guess. Sam was 17 at the time. He was rounded up with the adults, not the kids. I never saw him again. Learned later that he'd died out tending the fields, the goddamn fields that didn't produce anything anyway. Heat exposure, starvation, who knows. By that time no one was keeping track of cause of death anymore."

He trailed off, fighting memories that were becoming overwhelming.

"Anyway, the day we were rounded up, we - the kids, I mean - sat in a building for hours. I think it was the colony's courthouse. Some of the kids were holding babies, shit, ten- and eleven-year-olds with _infants_ crying in their arms, 'cause all the parents were being held somewhere else. Then Kodos came in and read some prepared speech about how some of us had to die so that the best of us could live. Most of the kids were too young to understand it, but I knew what it meant. Kids were useless. We used up food and didn't contribute anything of value to the colony. We were going to be killed, put down like diseased animals, all of us, even the littlest ones."

His voice was shaking now, and fuck, he had to get himself under control.

"Jim-" Bones started, voice rough, but Jim cut him off. He had to get this out now, all at once, or he was never going to have the courage to finish.

"No. I'm okay." Well, that was a lie, pretty much had been every time he'd said it in his life, but maybe someday it'd be true. "Kodos had a bodyguard. Guy went everywhere with him. I'd seen him around the colony a few times, and there were... rumors about him. That he liked boys, and he liked 'em young. I'd even seen him looking at me once or twice. I wanted to live, goddammit. I just wanted to live. So I caught his eye, from where I was sitting in the group. And I winked and licked my lips and I..." he choked, couldn't continue.

Bones was at his side in an instant, soft voice murmuring nonsense, helping him fight his way out of the memories threatening to engulf him. Bones had his hand out awkwardly, poised to give comfort but afraid to touch him, and Jim grabbed his hand and held onto it like a lifeline. God, how could Bones ever think that Jim would be afraid to touch him, to be touched by him? How could he himself have ever thought that? Bones was his only anchor, the only person he was absolutely sure would never, ever hurt him.

Bones must've got the message, because he pulled Jim over to the bed, sat against the headboard with his legs splayed, and pulled Jim down to sit between them, turned sideways and leaning into Bones' solid chest. Bones' arms were warm around him. They breathed together for a few minutes, drawing reassurance from each other's presence.

Then Bones spoke again. "Jim, fuck, I'm sorry. You don't have to -"

Jim interrupted once again. "Yeah, yeah I do. You need to know this. You _deserve_ to know this, after what I put you through. And maybe... maybe I need to get it out." Bones' arms tightened around Jim, but he didn't say anything else, just nodded against the top of Jim's head. After a moment, Jim resumed.

"The bodyguard whispered something to Kodos, Kodos nodded, and then he beckoned me over. I had to walk past all those other kids, knowing that they were all going to die. And that I was as good as killing them myself, by saving myself and not them. I couldn't look at them, Bones, I couldn't. Well, I'm sure you can guess the rest. Marcus, the bodyguard, he... provided protection and food, and I, well... I did whatever he wanted. The first day, I let him fuck me and then he gave me a bowl of soup. I ate every drop, and then I threw it all up again, all over his room. I never made that mistake again." Bones made a strangled noise and clutched him tighter.

"I tried to bargain with him to save the others, Bones, I swear I did. I offered to do whatever he wanted - cooperate, struggle, beg for it, whatever he wanted from me - if he'd save even one of the others. But he just laughed and said he didn't care if I struggled or not, it was all the same to him. He - shared me out, among the others in Kodos' inner circle, sometimes." He let out a deep, shaky sigh, feeling somehow as if some of the filth he was stained with was let out with that breath.

"So I just kinda... shut down. I don't know. Anyway, finally the federation rescue ships came. I was in pretty bad shape, but still alive. Barely. They made me go to counseling. Couldn't make me talk, though. I've never... never told anyone, before. The worst thing, though, is that my mom never looked me in the eyes again. I don't blame her. I good as killed Sam. He wouldn't've been there if not for my teenage rebellion bullshit. God, Bones. I killed him. First my dad, and then my brother too, then all those kids that I just walked past. All that death, just so I could live. I'm not worth it, Bones, I'm not."

At this, all the grief and guilt rose up in him like a wave and dragged him under. He started crying, choking sobs that wracked his chest. How long this went on, he wasn't sure, but it felt like years. He was adrift, lost, pulled out to sea by the undertow with no way back. And truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted to get back. So long, so long he'd been pushing this back, this knowledge that he was poison, that he took and took and others died and died so that he could live, worthless as he was. Only a pretty face and a convenient body, after all. Only good for one thing.

"No, Jim, god no, that's not true." Bones' devastated voice broke through his trance, and he realized he must've been speaking aloud the whole time. "God, Jim, you're not worthless. I can't be sorry that you survived. I'm goddamned grateful you did. And shit, Jim, it wasn't your fault. None of it. You must know that, don't you?"

Jim's sobs had quieted to wet snuffles as he listened to Bones' impassioned words and ow, his head really hurt all of a sudden. He didn't answer, just burrowed his face a little deeper against Bones' chest. Didn't think he _could_ answer, not just then.

Bones took his burrowing as a shake of the head, though, and growled softly. "Goddammit, Jim. Don't you know how amazing you are? I love you, you moron. Have since the day I met you. I'd... I'd do anything for you. Tell me how to help you. Tell me how to prove to you that you're not worthless. You're not poison. You're everything. Dammit, Jim, you're _everything._ "

Fuck, now Jim was crying again. He hadn't been such a watering pot since he was like, a baby or some shit. These tears were different, though. Not sobs, didn't feel like they were tearing him apart. Just water sliding down his face, soaking into Bones' shirt. Felt like... like letting go, or maybe like acceptance. That didn't even make any sense, but that was how it felt.

He finally looked up. He must've been a total mess, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and he could feel the snot flowing out of his nose. What a prize he was. But Bones... didn't look like he minded, or even noticed really. Bones was just staring into his eyes, the concern and - wow - love so clearly written on his face that not even someone as emotionally stunted as Jim could miss it. Jim drew in a long, shaky breath.

"Ow, Bones. My head hurts."

Bones let out a small chuckle. "Whiny brat. I can fix that, but no complaining about the hypo, okay?"

"But, Bones, where's the fun in that?"

"Not supposed to be fun, idiot." Somehow, while they were talking, Bones had leaned over and pulled a hypo out of his nightstand, and now pressed it to Jim's neck, much more gently than usual.

Jim yelped, but it was mostly for show. Then Bones was wiping his nose and his eyes with a handkerchief - a soft white square with "LHM" embroidered in one corner. _Only Bones,_ Jim thought fondly. When Bones had finished cleaning up Jim's face, he pressed a small kiss to his forehead, and Jim dropped his lashes. This was... weird. He wasn't used to these small tendernesses, had never been treated with such gentle reverence before. It was bizarre, but kinda nice.

The hypo had kicked in, and his head felt better. Actually, he felt a little better altogether, better than he'd felt in a long time. Almost felt... lighter. He grinned up at Bones, and if it was a bit wobbly around the edges, well, Bones didn't mention it. "A _handkerchief,_ Bones, seriously? Who has those anymore?"

Bones just rolled his eyes. "Me, obviously."

Jim huffed a small laugh, then turned serious. "Did you, ah, did you mean what you said, before?" He gulped nervously.

"I meant every word, Jim. What part do you mean, though?"

"Um, the part where you asked what you could do, to prove it to me?"

"Yeah? You got something in mind? Anything, Jim, I mean it."

Jim took a deep breath. "I want you to fuck me, Bones."

"WHAT? _NO!_ Are you crazy?!" Bones roared.

"Yeah, kinda, in case you hadn't noticed already," Jim replied. His nerves were buzzing with the aftereffects of his confession, and he felt larger than his skin.

"Jesus, Jim, _no._ What do you think I am, some kind of monster?"

And okay, so maybe Jim _had_ sort of thought that, before, when he'd seen Bones with that other guy. But even then he'd known it wasn't true, not really. Well, mostly. And even if this whole thing made him a little nervous, he owed it to Bones to make up to him the awful things he'd thought and said. So he rallied and gave it the old Kirk charm, pasting on a smile that was only partly fake. "I know you're not. That's the point, Bones. I know you won't hurt me. I trust you."

Bones was looking at him skeptically, and with far too much understanding. "Jim, there's a country mile between trusting someone and wanting to have sex with them. Are you even... I mean, do you even... _like_ men that way?"

All this talk was bringing him down, harshing his buzz, leading to second thoughts and third thoughts and shit. He was a man of action; talking things to death didn't help. He shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno, Bones, how about you convince me?" He gave a suggestive leer, but judging by Bones' expression, his pathetic attempt to lighten things up wasn't going to work.

"Dammit, Jim, this is too important to joke about. You're just gonna totally change your sexuality, just like that?"

Jim sighed. "It's not a change, Bones. It's a... realization. If I'm honest with myself, which I'll have you know I _hate,_ I've... been attracted to guys before. Plenty of times. Just never did anything about it. Well, except find the nearest willing woman and fall into bed with her."

Bones, the obstinate bastard, was clearly still unconvinced. Jim's confession-induced adrenaline high had totally worn off, now, leaving him feeling far too raw. He didn't much like the feeling, but it couldn't be helped. Time for more honesty. Damn it.

"Y'know how you... said you felt about me, before?" He lowered his eyes, couldn't look at Bones for this.

"Oh, when I said I loved you? Yeah, I remember. It was about five minutes ago. I was beginning to wonder if you'd noticed." His words were light, but he sounded defensive, vulnerable, and Jim couldn't stand it.

"Well, I did. And I... kinda... maybe... think I feel like that about you, too."

"Sure you do, kid," Now Bones sounded tired, and made to push Jim out of his comfortable little spot between Bones' legs. Jim made an indignant noise and refused to budge. Bones gave up on trying to shift Jim, but pulled his hands away and ran them through his own hair, clearly trying to put a bit of distance between them.

"Jim," he continued, obviously searching for the right words. "It's okay that you don't love me. I don't expect you to. It's not why I said it. But Jim, don't lie to me, and don't pander to me. I'm not one of your women. You don't need to say anything, or do anything, or be anyone other than who you are for me to stick around. To tell the truth, I don't think I _could_ leave at this point. You're pretty much stuck with me, like it or not."

How could someone be simultaneously so generous, so giving, and make him feel so stupidly warm and fuzzy inside, and at the same time be so downright _irritating_?

"Bones. For god's sake, I've never told anyone I loved them. Not ever, and certainly not to get into anyone's pants. I don't have to _lie_ to get women into bed." That last bit came out a bit more aggrieved than he'd intended, but hell, it was the truth.

Bones made a noise that was half amusement, half despair. "Then why would you say it to me, Jim?"

"Oh, I don't know, you stubborn jerk, maybe 'cause it's true?" He poked his finger into the middle of Bones' chest, hard. "You're the only person I trust. You're my only real friend. I've thought you were a sexy beast for ages, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself. I've been tying myself up in knots for weeks now, trying to convince myself that I didn't miss you. And then when I heard about your shuttle test, that you might wash out, I just... panicked. Couldn't lose you. All that shit I said in the sim about needing you, I meant it, you know." He folded his arms over his chest, gave Bones his very most determined face. "You're just gonna have to accept that I l- feel the same way about you that you feel about me, you pigheaded asshole." So maybe he hadn't been able to say the word, but still, he thought he'd done pretty good. He sat back a little, suddenly nervous, to wait for Bones' reaction.

Bones snorted. "How romantic. Watch out, Jim, you're gonna make me swoon with that kind of declaration." He'd lost that defeated look, though, even if he didn't look like he actually believed Jim yet. Luckily for Jim, persuasion was one of the things he was best at. And as a bonus, working on overcoming Bones' hesitation meant that he could push his own to the side, ignore it. A win-win, all around.

"Okay, Bones, let's summarize. You have feelings for me. I have feelings for you. I find you hot and I want to have sex with you. Do you - not want to have sex with _me_?" Suddenly he felt extremely foolish. Maybe he'd been making some unwarranted assumptions here. After all, love wasn't the same as physical attraction, as he well knew. Feeling one didn't necessarily mean feeling the other. He felt the world dropping out from under him. Maybe Bones didn't mean that he loved him that way, maybe he just meant he loved him as a friend. Must've meant that, 'cause who would want someone like _him_ , once they knew how fucked up he was? No one, that's who. But then, Bones' voice cut across his increasingly hysterical inner monologue, dry and reassuring.

"Don't be an idiot, Jim. Of course I want you. I'm in love with you, you nitwit, and I want you so badly I can hardly see straight." Bones' cheeks were slightly reddened, but his face was open, unguarded, and Jim could read the truth there. The world reformed, in brilliant color, and Jim squirmed with slightly smug satisfaction. Bones was still talking, though. "But, Jim, _this, now_ , it's too much, too soon. You need some time to process, to deal with this trauma before you -" Oh, _hell_ no. Jim was _not_ going to listen to this. Even if - _especially_ if - it hit a little too close to home.

"Bones," he said flatly, cutting him off. "Do you respect me? Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, of course," said Bones reluctantly, clearly uncertain where Jim was going with this, but knowing he wasn't going to like it.

"Well, then, you have to treat me like an adult, not like a little kid, and not like your patient. You gotta trust that I know my own mind, know what I need, what I can handle and what I can't. I'm not gonna let Tarsus fuck things up for us - for _me_ \- any longer. I can do this with you, I know I can, and I _want_ to. I'm tired of letting my past control me."

Bones looked slightly taken aback, and his resolution was clearly wavering, but he put up another protest. "Jim, there's no rush. Nothing has to happen tonight. We can just take it slow and easy."

"Bones, have you met me? When have I ever done anything slow and easy? I want to do this, and I want to do it _now_. Fuck me, goddammit!" His voice held an edge of desperation, and if asked, he'd put it down to sexual frustration. He'd never admit to any trepidation about what he was pushing Bones for, although of course, Bones could probably tell anyway. Bastard could read him like a book.

Bones gave him a long, considering look. Jim kept his eyes steady on Bones', not trying to hide anything. It was too late for that anyway. All he knew was that this was _right_. He knew it in his gut, and he trusted his gut. He was sick of all this repression bullshit, and he wanted to make a clean start, tonight, with Bones. If he didn't do it now, he might lose his nerve and then who knew how long it'd be before they had another chance. Jim was _not_ going to risk that.

"God help me," Bones said resignedly, closing his eyes, and Jim knew he'd won. He grinned, feeling equal parts victorious and terrified. "But Jim, dammit, the _second_ you feel uncomfortable, you gotta swear you'll tell me."

"I promise," Jim said seriously. He meant it, too - this thing with Bones was too important to fuck up. Bones must've seen it, because he relaxed a bit. "Now come on, don't you wanna take a test drive?" Jim made his voice husky, seductive. "See if I live up to my reputation?"

Bones tensed up again. Dammit, that was not the reaction he'd been going for.

"Yeah, Jim, about that..." Bones looked away. "You know I'd do anything for you. And if you want to do this, tonight, as some sort of experiment, or to prove something to yourself, or work through your past, that's all right with me. But I'm not... I don't do casual. I can't do a friends-with-benefits deal. So after tonight, if you want to go back to just being friends, and be free to be with other people... I'll be okay with that." The look on his face, though, as he avoided Jim's eyes, said he'd be anything but.

Jim pursed his lips. Normally he'd jump in with some wiseass remark, but this wasn't the time or place for it. And damn if that didn't mean he was actually growing up, if he recognized that fact, or cared. But this... maybe this was worth growing up for. So he actually considered for a minute before he responded. "Bones, I... I've never done the committed relationship thing before. I can't see the future, and I don't know how it'll turn out. But I know I want to try. With you. I'm not ready to pick out china or anything, but... I think we could be good together. Really good. And I promise you that as long as we're together, I won't be with anyone else. Can't promise I won't look, but I promise I won't touch. Is that okay?" His heart pounding, he waited for Bones' verdict.

Bones met his eyes, finally, and the unguarded happiness there filled Jim with a dizzying wave of relief. "Yeah, Jim, that's okay," was all Bones said, in that gruff voice that he'd heard a thousand times before, which suddenly made him want to melt.

Then Bones' long fingers were under his chin, tipping it towards Bones' face, and Jim's eyes drifted shut as Bones' mouth moved closer. The first touch of lips to his was achingly tender, and Jim let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

Jim tried to deepen the kiss, opened his mouth and pushed his tongue against Bones' still closed lips, eager for more contact, but Bones just pulled back, breathed a nearly-silent chuckle, and put one finger on Jim's lower lip.

"Kid, if it _kills_ me, I'm gonna teach you the merits of slow and easy. Let me make this good for you. God, Jim, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this. No way I'm rushing it."

Jim could barely form a coherent thought in response. Bones' words, the sound of his voice, the touch of that long, slender finger on his lip... it was all conspiring to drive him insane with want and some softer feeling that he couldn't name. "Yeah, okay, Bones," was about all he could manage.

Then Bones' strong hands were framing his face, anchoring him, and Bones was kissing him again, gently, first on the lips, and then everywhere on his face, dropping soft kisses on his cheeks, forehead, eyebrows, down the line of his jaw, the tip of his nose. Jim settled in, only a little reluctantly, to accept Bones' pace.

Finally Bones returned to Jim's lips, and kissed him softly, over and over. This wasn't what Jim was used to, and it was kind of strange. He was used to hot, hungry encounters that owed more to each party's lust and adrenaline than to any connection felt between them. This was... frightening, in a way that rutting against a stranger wasn't. Jim hated being vulnerable, but if there was anyone he was willing to open up to, it was Bones. He let his eyelids drift shut once more. Finally, Bones deepened the kiss, opening his mouth, just slightly, against Jim's. Their tongues met, barely touching, softly, tip-to-tip, exploring. Bones' hands were still on the sides of Jim's face, and now his thumbs were stroking Jim's cheekbones, again and again, in time with the movement of his mouth. Jim shivered, and Bones must have caught the small movement, because he hummed reassuringly, still not deepening the kiss.

On and on it went, light touches to his face and tender, barely open-mouthed kisses. Gradually, Jim let go of tension he hadn't even been aware he'd been carrying. He slumped a bit against Bones' chest, and Bones pulled back just a bit. He lazily opened his eyes to find Bones surveying his face. "Good, Jim, that's good. Just let go. I'm gonna take care of you," he promised softly, voice gravelly, drawl pronounced. Jim shivered again, for an entirely different reason. God, that voice. It should be illegal.

When Bones started kissing him again, there was a slightly different quality to it, an intensity that was building. Bones' hands curled around behind his head, one running through the short hair at the base of his skull, the other lightly stroking the vertebrae of his neck. Bones' lips on his were firmer, more demanding, and Jim capitulated without thought. Their tongues tangled, pushing, licking, searching out rough and smooth planes of tooth and roof of mouth and inside of cheek, panting breaths released directly into each other's mouths.

Jim had never felt quite like this. It was tenderness mixed with passion, give and take with the urgency rising around them like the wind. Without realizing it, he'd risen up onto his knees, was now facing Bones, hands tangled into Bones' shirt, and one of Bones' hands had dropped to the small of his back, under his shirt, fingers lightly rubbing his spine, sending thrills of sensation singing along the nerves there.

He was hard now, as hard as he'd ever been, and faster than he'd ever gotten there before. Usually he was the cool one, could - and did - control his reactions until his partner was in a frenzy, but with Bones it was all different. Bones undid him. All they were doing was making out like a couple of teenagers, and Christ, he hadn't done this even when he _was_ a teenager. It was hot and sweet, dirty and somehow innocent at the same time. He bucked his hips against Bones, involuntarily, and felt Bones' hardness against his own. He let out a broken moan, felt Bones' answering groan, their mouths still fused.

Now both of Bones' hands were under Jim's shirt, cupping his waist, thumbs stroking against the skin of his sides. Jim tugged ineffectually at Bones' shirt. Had to feel more of that skin against him _now_. Bones pulled back, let go of Jim, and Jim made a wordless whine of protest, but Bones just tugged his own shirt off, then helped Jim out of his, and then reached those strong arms out again and gathered Jim back in. Jim shifted until he was straddling Bones' hips, their chests pressed together. He could feel the long, solid length of Bones' frame under his, holding him up, holding him together. He felt Bones' nipples against his chest, his own nipples tickled slightly by the sparse hair on Bones' chest.

For a moment, Bones just held Jim, Jim's face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply, smelling salty-clean sweat and faint traces of soap and something that was indefinably, indescribably _Bones_. He'd smelled it a thousand times before, knew it better than even the smell of the farmhouse back in Iowa, and it felt more like home to him than that place had ever been. But he'd never reacted to it like this before, with a spike of lust that shot straight through his gut and exploded like lightning in his cock.

He moaned, helpless and needy. He heard Bones' breath hitch in response, felt Bones' fingertips stuttering along his spine before the slow steady stroking motion resumed. "Jesus Christ, kid, if you could see yourself," Bones said.

"Don't wanna see myself," Jim mumbled against Bones' neck. "Wanna see _you_."

Bones chuckled. "Be my guest. I'm not stopping you."

Jim leaned back, a bit reluctant to leave the warmth of Bones' embrace. But he hadn't been lying, he really did want to see Bones, get a good look at Bones all flushed with passion for _him_.

He drank in the sight, eyes tracing the broad chest and shoulders, sturdy thighs beneath him, defined arms stretched out with those strong surgeon's hands on his hips. Miles and miles of pale skin, dusted lightly with dark hair, nipples perfect, round and pink, the tips stiffened with arousal. The long line of his neck leading to a strong jawline and Bones' familiar face. Jim didn't know how he had seen it so often, and somehow never consciously realized how much beauty was there. Bones was looking half turned-on, and half self-conscious, and it was captivating.

His fingers followed the path his eyes had taken, feeling rough hair, firm muscle, smooth skin and the comfortable pliancy of the extra flesh underneath ("I'm a doctor, Jim, not a bodybuilder," was Bones' usual complaint when Jim dragged him to the Academy rec center). Finally, giving in to temptation, he buried his hands in Bones' hair. Still slightly damp from his shower, it was soft as mink as the strands slipped through Jim's fingers.

Bones groaned, leaning his head back against the headboard, and when he exposed that long neck, well, Jim just had to taste it. He teased his tongue around the divot between the collarbones, up along Bones' throat, past his adam's apple, and then along the side of his jaw to an ear. He sucked gently at the lobe there, and judging by the way Bones' hips bucked, he really liked that.

Jim explored for a while, kissing, petting, licking. It was different with Bones than it had been with any of his other partners, though - this time his explorations were as much to find out what pleased _him_ as to find out what pleased Bones. Usually sex for Jim was a performance, or a competition - it was all about showing off what he could do, impressing his partner by drowning her in sheer pleasure. This, though - this was altogether different.

He scooted back so that he could get his mouth on Bones' chest, and braced his hands on Bones' legs while Bones' hands came up to wrap into his hair. Jim stiffened his tongue into a point and flicked it roughly against Bones' nipples, first the left and then the right. Then he sucked one into his mouth and worried it gently with his teeth, backing off to blow on it lightly, then moving on to give the same treatment to its neighbor. Bones was gasping, and arching his back, so Jim was gonna call that a success. He raised his head and smirked slightly at Bones, who was absolutely dazed with lust.

Bones' eyes cleared as he took in Jim's challenging expression, and suddenly he flipped them so Jim was flat on his back, with Bones looming over him. Jim sighed in relief. _This_ was what he'd been wanting, and he hadn't even known it. Not to have to be the one in charge, not to have to put on a show or impress. Bones knew, though. Bones _got_ him, in ways that no one else had ever bothered to try.

Now it was Bones' turn to explore, and he did it like he did everything else - thoroughly and with intense concentration. Being the object of all of Bones' considerable focus was downright heady. Bones took him apart with hands and mouth, moving slowly, gently, making no move to take any more of Jim's clothes off. He kissed and mouthed everywhere he could reach, interspersing sharp nips with soothing licks along Jim's chest, shoulders, arms. His fingers caressed Jim's hair, stroked along his skin, and flicked his nipples. And through it all, Bones kept coming back to Jim's face, to his mouth, for deep, soul-stealing kisses that left both of them gasping for air.

He kept going until he'd reduced Jim to a quivering, moaning wreck, tremors shooting randomly through his muscles and hips bucking helplessly upward, seeking contact. Finally, finally, he eased Jim's boots, socks, and pants off, and then he repeated the whole process of exploration on Jim's legs. He massaged his thumbs deeply into tense calf muscles, planted a line of soft kisses up along the inside of Jim's knee. Jim tried reaching for Bones, but Bones just swatted his hands away absently as he continued his painstaking survey of Jim's body.

He'd left Jim's boxer-briefs on, and Jim had just enough brain cells left functioning to be vaguely grateful for that - he felt exposed enough as it was, and Bones was still nearly fully clothed. Speaking of which, _that_ just wasn't right. He gathered enough presence of mind to get his hands to Bones' waistband and tug at it. He wasn't actually successful at getting the buttons undone, but at least he'd communicated to Bones what he wanted, and Bones thankfully took the hint and shucked off his own pants.

Jim drank in the sight, and Bones took the opportunity to survey Jim as well. Bones' eyes met Jim's, smoky, hooded, and Jim felt himself growing impossibly even more turned on. Bones lowered himself back over Jim, full-length, their legs tangling together as they kissed and petted and stroked each other's skin, like there was all the time in the world. Jim was drowning in a pool of languid, simmering arousal.

Then Bones' hands reached for his shorts. Jim's breath left him in a gust. This was _real,_ this was happening, and suddenly he didn't know if he could handle it. He felt slightly sick.

Bones instantly sensed the shift in Jim's mood, and his hands went from stimulating to comforting, moving away from Jim's briefs, keeping his touches light, reassuring, undemanding. He murmured a steady stream of encouragement into Jim's ear, "Shh, baby, I've got you. Won't hurt you. Only want to make you feel good. We'll stop now if you want. Whenever you want." He kept the soothing litany going until Jim had calmed down, his arousal dimmed but at least his breathing was under control again.

"Fuck, Bones. God _dammit_!" Jim's hiss was pure frustration. With himself, with the situation, with his stupid inability to just get _over_ it already. He knew what he wanted, knew it would be good, knew Bones would never hurt him, but somehow the rational part of his brain wasn't in control here.

He braced himself for a lecture from Bones, at the very least a self-righteous "I told you so" or its equivalent. He didn't get it, though. Bones was just watching him, soberly but with a warmth and solicitude that had Jim's eyes prickling. "Wanna stop now? Just say the word. It's okay, Jim."

It couldn't have been easy for Bones to put on the brakes like that, judging by the substantial bulge in his briefs, and oh good god Bones was hung like a goddamn horse. No way in _hell_ that thing would fit... bad thought. Stop. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

"Just gimme a minute, Bones," he gritted out.

"Sure thing, Jim. I'm right here. Not going anywhere. Take your time." His tone was near its usual gruff drawl, just tempered a bit by concern, and a tiny trace of that tenderness that Jim was so very unused to. It'd always been there, he realized now, whenever Bones spoke to him, though not with anyone else. He'd just never recognized it before.

God, he loved this man. He'd already admitted it (well, sort of), but now he _felt_ it, all the way down to his molecules. It should've been scary, but somehow it wasn't. It was just... right. It was just _Bones_.

He moved his hands from his face and turned to look at Bones, who was lying on his side next to Jim, waiting calmly, ready to follow Jim's lead.

"Sorry, Bones," he said, suddenly feeling defeated. "I'm such a fuck-up. I'm sorry."

Bones glowered. It was such a familiar look, but so out of place in this context that Jim nearly laughed in nervous relief. "Jim, you're not a fuck-up, and you've got nothing to be sorry for. I don't wanna hear you cutting yourself down, I mean it. It's not your fault, and we're gonna deal with this together. Take a deep breath, dammit. Good. Now tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need."

Jim blinked. Bones' tone of voice was so matter-of-fact, so _normal_ , that it quelled his rising despondency as quickly as if a candle had been snuffed out. Huh. So Bones' superpower was, like, calming down freaked-out people by being cranky and bossy. Probably a useful trait for a doctor. He refocused on the question at hand, and actually, there _was_ something Bones could do.

"Just keep talking, Bones."

Bones looked puzzled, but game. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"No, I mean, let's keep going, just talk to me. I... don't like it when it's too quiet."

"All right, Jim. I can do that."

Bones gathered him into his arms, and started the whole process again, kissing, petting, stroking, licking. Only this time, he kept up a steady stream of soothing talk, endearments mixed with narration of what he was doing. "Okay, Jim, I'm gonna massage your legs now. Just your legs, not gonna touch anything else. I like this spot behind your knee - you're ticklish there, huh, baby? I'm gonna taste it. Just gonna lick behind your knee. God darlin', you taste good."

He took his time, endlessly patient, lulling Jim back into a state of dreamy arousal. Everything was hazy, and there was nothing in the world but him and Bones, and Bones' husky voice. By the time Bones asked in that throaty voice whether it was okay to take off his briefs, Jim was quivering, this time with sheer need and anticipation. He nodded emphatically. Bones was careful, slow, as he pulled the boxers down and off Jim's body.

"God, you're beautiful, Jim. So perfect." Bones was looking into his eyes as he said it, and Jim knew that he didn't just mean his (if he did say so himself, which he did) pretty face or toned body. Bones saw him, saw things that no one else did. It made Jim feel naked, exposed in a way he hadn't with anyone else, but somehow he also felt safer than he had with anyone else.

"So're you, Bones. I want to see you. All of you."

Bones nodded and removed his own shorts, exposing the impressively long, thick cock that Jim had seen so briefly during that disastrous incident weeks before. Bones was hard now, dick fully engorged and already shining at the tip with precome. He made no move to touch Jim, though, just sitting next to him on the bed, waiting for Jim to get used to the two of them being naked together.

Jim reached out to touch Bones, running his finger along the crown of Bones' cock. Bones shuddered and exhaled shakily. "God, Jim, the things you do to me."

Jim smiled, managing to inject a little of his usual cockiness. "Not half as much as I want you to do to _me_ , Bones. You're too far away. Get over here."

Bones scooted over closer, and lay down next to Jim, so they were chest-to-chest. "Damn, Jim, I want to touch you. Can I touch you?"

Jim nodded again, and Bones reached out and ran his hand slowly, gently up and down Jim's cock. He kept talking. "Mmm, so hard already, aren't you? Does this feel good, baby? You've got a gorgeous cock. Should've known, everything else about you is gorgeous."

Jim just moaned, enveloped in sensation. He brought his hands up to Bones' body, stroked whatever parts he could reach, but he couldn't focus enough to really get Bones worked up. Luckily, it seemed like Bones was getting plenty worked just with what he was doing to Jim.

Bones rolled them over so he was on top of Jim, and now their cocks were touching, rubbing together lightly as Bones moved over him. "Jim, look at you, all hot and bothered. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care of you. Just let me, darlin', let me take care of you."

Whatever words he might have mustered up in response were forgotten as Bones leaned down and kissed him again, slow and hot and deep. He was touching Bones wherever he could reach, caressing shoulders and biceps and sides, down to his ass and around the front again to brush at that magnificent cock. Bones growled, deep in his throat, at that, and Jim did it again, enjoying the reaction he was causing. Bones pulled back from the kiss, breathless. "You keep that up, this'll be over way too quick."

Jim breathed a laugh. It turned into a gasp as Bones moved down his body, ending up with his mouth over Jim's cock, panting hot breaths onto Jim's body.

"Wanna suck you. Is that okay?" Bones looked back up at him, and dear god, the vision of Bones, poised to suck his dick, looking into his eyes and asking _permission_ nearly undid Jim then and there.

"Yeah," he managed, and then Bones' mouth was on him, hot and wet and so unbelievably good. He whined, bucked, thrashed and panted, and Bones pulled back every few seconds to catch a breath and say something: "Does that feel good, sugar? You like that?" before diving back in and driving Jim wild some more.

This time when he pulled back, he looked at Jim. "Gonna touch you now, gonna touch your hole with my finger. I'm not gonna go inside, though, okay, baby? Won't go inside until you say it's okay."

Jim felt a small surge of apprehension, but nodded. There was a moment's pause as Bones retrieved a tube of lube from his bedside table and applied a bit to his finger. Then his mouth was back on Jim's cock. For a while, he just worked Jim's dick, sucking and licking between soothing murmurs until Jim was lost in pleasure again.

"Touching you now," Bones whispered. Then he brought his finger up, just running up and down between the cheeks, slowly working in toward Jim's opening. Jim felt the touch of that finger on his hole, no pressure, just gentle contact. It felt... really good, actually. He wiggled a bit to encourage some movement. "You like that, honey?" Bones asked.

"Yeah, Bones, fuck yeah."

Bones chuckled and moved his finger in small circles around the tight opening, lightly, teasing. "Tell me when you're ready for more, Jim. No hurry. I could do this all night long."

Jim nodded. "Not yet. Want your mouth again, though."

Bones snorted. "Bossy, aren't you?" he said, but he bent back down and sucked in the tip of Jim's cock, flicking his tongue in a way that felt absolutely amazing. He kept up the light motions with his finger as he did so, and Jim could swear he was in paradise.

"Ahhh! More, now, Bones," Jim gasped. Bones, to his credit, didn't ask if Jim was sure, just gently eased the very tip of his finger inside of Jim. He gave a last flick of the tongue to Jim's cock and pulled back to focus on what he was doing.

"Good?" Bones asked.

"Yeah, good," Jim said, and holy fuck, it _was_. It was _incredible_. "More."

"Lemme add a bit more lube. One second." He pulled out, squirted more of the lubricant on his fingers, and then said "Okay, baby, I'm going to put my finger back in now," as he pushed back in again, gently. Jim let his legs fall open wider, propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch Bones do this. "Gonna go a little further. Just a little. Tell me if you want me to stop. Anytime, Jim." He looked at Jim and waited for the nod before he pushed in a little more. "I'm in up to my first knuckle. You want more?" Again, Jim nodded. He felt a bit of increasing pressure as Bones' finger breached him further. "How's that, baby? You still good?"

"Yeah." His head fell back. The sensation of Bones' finger slowly working its way inside him was the one of the most erotic things he'd ever experienced. No wonder so many girls wanted him to play with them this way.

"I'm in to my second knuckle now. God, baby, you look so good all spread out for me. So hard you're leaking on your stomach. Fuck, Jim, that's hot."

Jim shuddered at the words. Usually he was the talker during sex, mostly because he didn't handle silence well, but he'd never done it with such single-minded dedication, never before realized how goddamn _incendiary_ it could be to have someone saying such filthy-sweet things to you while they were playing your body like an instrument.

"Jim, you've got my whole finger now. You're doing so good. God, you're amazing. Gonna fuck you with my finger, baby. Slow and easy, I promise. Won't hurt. Just wanna make you feel good."

He moaned again as Bones started moving in and out with his finger, leisurely, unhurried. Then Bones touched a spot inside him that sent sparks exploding up his nerves, seemingly connected in a straight line to his cock. "Ah! Fuck, Bones!" he yelled, back arching helplessly. It was almost overwhelming, blurring the line between pleasure and pain.

"It's okay, Jim, I got you. It's just your prostate. Feels good, doesn't it? Want me to do it again?"

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Jim decided that he liked it. He really, really liked it. "Hell, yes, Bones." Bones chuckled and obliged, rubbing that spot with every stroke of his finger, making Jim crazy with the feeling.

Before long Jim was pushing back against Bones, wanting more, harder, deeper. He whined, low in his throat. "More, Bones!" he ordered.

"Okay, darlin'. I'm going to add another finger now. Let me know if you need me to stop." Jim felt the second finger go in, the slight stretch of it causing a frisson of pleasure. "So good, Jim, you're so good," Bones breathed. "You feel so amazing around me, darlin', so warm and soft."

Jim acclimated quickly to the feel of two fingers, relaxing into the sensation. He took the opportunity to sneak a look at Bones. Bones was so hard it must've been painful, but he was totally ignoring his own arousal, concentrating completely on what he was doing to Jim. Speaking of painfully hard, his own cock was feeling a big neglected. He reached for the lube, which Bones had left on the bed, and squirted a dollop into his hand. Then he started working his cock, loving the dual sensation of fucking his hand and being fucked on Bones' hand.

"Goddamn, Jim, you look hot like that. Don't come till I tell you though, okay?"

Jim nodded and slowed his pace, coasting, not letting the sensations overtake him yet.

"Ready for three fingers, sugar?" Bones asked.

"Yeah."

"All right, baby, here goes. Just gonna go slow. Tell me to stop anytime."

Jim watched in heated fascination as three of Bones' fingers disappeared into his own body, down below where Jim was fisting his prick. The visual wasn't something he was going to soon forget, and the feeling was even more amazing. It was unbelievable pleasure, just this side of pain, but not scary or threatening or intimidating. It was _awesome_.

"You okay, there, darlin'? Does that feel good?"

Jim tried to answer; all that came out was a long, decidedly affirmative moan. He figured that was answer enough, and Bones must've agreed, as Bones' breath hitched and he worked his fingers inside of Jim a bit deeper.

"Fuck, Jim. Can't wait to be inside of you. I'm gonna make it so good for you, baby, I swear."

"Booones... you're _killing_ me. Do it already. Fuck me." His voice sounded breathless in his ears.

Bones groaned, but kept sliding his fingers in and out, so slowly, too slowly. "Not yet, Jim. Almost. Not yet."

The slow torture continued for several more minutes, Bones twisting and sliding his fingers in and out, keeping up a steady stream of endearments, telling Jim how good he was and how much he wanted him. Jim had never been subjected to anything like this before, and he thought he was going to melt into a pile of goo right on the bed. A pile of extremely horny, frustrated goo.

Finally, finally Bones decided he had prepped Jim enough and looked at him. "You ready, Jim?"

Jim nodded fervently. He was _beyond_ ready.

Bones efficiently lubed his cock, knelt between Jim's legs and lined up, just rubbing the tip of his cock against Jim's loosened entrance. Jim forgot to stroke himself, enthralled as he was with watching Bones enter him. The first nudge of Bones' cock sent a tiny surge of apprehension up his spine - fuck, he was big, and so blunt - but Bones' voice brought him back down to earth, soft as a feather.

"Ah, Jesus, Jim. Gonna put my cock in you. Just slow. Just the head. Not gonna go any further than that. Oh fuck, you feel so goddamn good." Bones sounded like he was hanging onto his control by the thinnest of threads, but if there was one thing Jim knew, it was that Bones would never let go of that thread. Jim was in control here, and Bones wouldn't go any faster or do any more than he wanted. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling.

And the feeling of Bones' cock breaching him... well, that was beyond intoxicating. There were no words to describe that. There was no more fear. Everything had burned away in the haze of lust and want and need and _now_. "More, Bones! Give me more."

Bones nodded, gritting his teeth in concentration, and pushed in just a tiny bit more. Already Jim could feel himself stretching to accommodate him - that first press of the head of Bones' cock past the tight ring of muscle had been the most intense. Now, it felt like Bones sliding in was the most natural thing in the world.

"Jiiiiim," Bones groaned. Now Bones was losing coherence, and Jim felt just a tad smug. _He_ was the one reducing Bones to this.

"Yeah, Bones, that's it, so good. You feel so good, so big. Gimme more. I can take it. I _want_ it. Want _you_."

Slowly, incredibly slowly, Bones entered him, an inch at a time, always pausing until Jim indicated he was ready for more. Finally, Jim felt the press of Bones' abdomen against his balls, knew Bones was fully seated in him. Bones was sweating and trembling, gripping Jim's hips like they were the only things anchoring him to this world.

Jim had expected his own arousal to wane, had expected that this act would be mostly for Bones' sake. He'd never been more pleased to be proven wrong. He was hard and throbbing, dripping precome onto his stomach, gasping and shivering with pleasure. He wasn't even touching himself anymore and still he felt like he might explode at any second.

Jim sat up halfway and looked at where they were joined, awed by the sight. He reached down and felt Bones' thick cock disappearing into him, couldn't believe it was all inside of him.

"Fuuuuuck," they said at the same time, then shared a grin. It seemed to break the tension, and Jim laid back, gave his hips a lazy roll, and said "Bones, move."

He did, but so slowly that it was more likely to drive Jim insane than to orgasm. He was still talking, too, but now it was more like babbling. "So good, so tight, ah fuck, Jim," fell out of his mouth, words dripping like sugar water onto Jim's skin.

Bones leaned forward, bracing himself on one arm over Jim, reaching down with the other to take Jim's cock in hand. It was still slick with lube, and Bones set the same measured tempo for Jim that he'd set for himself. Jim, for his part, wrapped his legs around Bones' back, desperate to get even a fraction of an inch closer. He let Bones set the pace, though. It wasn't one he'd have chosen, but it was better than he could have imagined. Maybe there was something to be said for slow and easy after all.

They found a rhythm, Bones pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow and hard and deep, bottoming out as they both gasped. Jim was getting close, now, and there was no way he was going to be able to hold it off this time.

"Bones, gonna," he gasped out.

"Yeah, Jim, come for me. Come on, baby." Bones added a twist of his wrist to the strokes of Jim's cock, pushed in one last time, and then Jim was coming. It was so different than usual - it felt like a revelation, like letting go, like the swell of a wave washing through him, depositing him safely on the shore. It went on and on, gentle and strong and sure and he hazily heard Bones talking to him throughout it all, "Love you, Jim. Love you so much," a counterpoint to the pulsing of his cock, balls, and heart.

When he regained lucidity, he blinked fuzzily up at Bones, who had eased out of him and was now petting him with soft slow strokes, watching him recover, looking for any signs of pain or distress, and making no move to reach his own completion.

When he thought he could talk again, he licked his lips and let out a shaky, "Christ, Bones. That was _epic_." Then, taking another look at Bones, added "Aren't you gonna come?" while indicating Bones' dick, standing out stiffly between his legs.

"Yeah," Bones breathed heavily. He took himself in hand, kneeling over Jim. While Jim watched, still floating in post-orgasmic bliss, Bones jerked himself, hard and fast, grunting, looking right into his eyes. It was the single most intimate moment of Jim's life, seeing Bones with no defenses, no gruff sarcasm to cover up what was underneath. He could see all the love, all the want, all the _need_ and it was all for _him_.

He reached up and stroked Bones' chest, lightly flicking his nipples. "Mmm, Bones, come for me. Want you to come on me."

Bones seized up, made a choking noise, and then he was coming, spurting hot and thick into the puddle of Jim's own come on his stomach and chest. Jim lay there, watching as the aftershocks worked through Bones' system, loving the contradictory feeling of being claimed, marked, and at the same time knowing that he'd brought Bones to this place, had caused him to totally unravel.

Bones collapsed on the bed, next to Jim, still breathing heavily as he recovered from his orgasm. Jim hummed a little, found another handkerchief in the nightstand, and cleaned them both up a bit. Bones, unsurprisingly, seemed to be all talked out for the moment, but when Jim had wiped them down, Bones pulled him into his arms and they lay there together, hearts pounding and breath mingling, looking at each other with the knowledge of all that was now between them shimmering in the air.

Okay, that was enough of this romance novel staring-into-each-other's-eyes shit. Jim smirked.

"So, all those pet names. What was that about, Bones?"

"Oh, what, you told me to talk and now you're gonna complain about what I said?" he sounded defensive.

"Not complaining. It was just unexpected. I guess I could get used to it, though."

Bones propped himself up on an elbow, peered hard into Jim's eyes, seemingly trying to determine whether Jim was putting him on. Then he relaxed, flopped back again.

"Yeah, well, just don't expect it anywhere outside of bed."

"Aw, but Bones, when I take my Kobayashi Maru, you could call me 'Captain Sugar'." Jim batted his eyelashes at Bones, who snorted.

"Yeah, that'll be the day."

Jim just grinned. "Hey, I'm hungry, are you hungry?"

Bones groaned dramatically. "No, Jim, I'm not hungry. Don't tell me you're one of those godforsaken people who're bursting with energy after sex."

"Afraid so, Bones. You'll just have to learn to live with it."

He eased up out of bed, a bit gingerly, not certain whether to expect pain or not. He _was_ sore, a bit, but it was a good kind of sore, like a muscle ache after a good workout. Not the kind of pain to be afraid of, or ashamed of. He walked over to the replicator unit, a spring in his step.

Keying in the command for a turkey sandwich, one of the few edible things the dorm replicators were able to produce, he looked over his shoulder at Bones, caught him watching. He gave a sassy little wiggle of his ass and Bones rolled his eyes. Of course, Bones was well worth ogling too, and as he walked back over to the bed, he looked his fill.

"You look way better this time," Jim said vaguely, sitting next to Bones and taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

"This time?" Bones crooked an eyebrow. Jim chewed and swallowed.

"Yeah, y'know, all sexed-up and stuff. You're much hotter when you've been with me than you were with that other guy."

"Yes, Jim, my choice of partner makes all the difference in how attractive I am."

"Whatever," said Jim. _He_ knew it was true, and that was what mattered. Then, without his volition, the question he'd been avoiding fell out of his mouth. "Who was that guy, anyway?"

"Does it matter?" Bones asked, wary. "Just someone I picked up because I couldn't have who I wanted."

"That'd be me, right?" Jim pressed.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Yes, you egomaniac, that'd be you."

Jim preened. "Were you closing your eyes and pretending he was me?"

"For god's sake, Jim!" was all Bones said, but the burning of his cheeks gave him away.

"That's okay. I'm sure lots of people are settling for second best and pretending they're fucking me. Just not enough of me to go around. And from now on, you're the only one who gets a piece of this. Lucky you."

Bones swatted him. "Yeah, luck's one word for it," he muttered, but Jim could tell he was pleased. He tucked into his sandwich happily.

Bones watched him for a minute, eyes taking in every detail, before he gruffly asked, "You okay, kid?"

Jim's eyes prickled once again, but he gave a blinding grin. "Yeah, Bones, I'm okay." And for maybe the first time in his life, he really, really was.

 

END


End file.
